


So your Soulmate's a Jerk

by The_Dancing_Walrus



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Based on a Tumblr Post, Episode: s01e10 Revenge of the Rogues, I Don't Even Know, Light Angst, M/M, a surprising amount of sense from these two idiots, your soulmate leaves a mark when you touch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 18:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5976493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Dancing_Walrus/pseuds/The_Dancing_Walrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was like an acid burn, for a moment everything felt normal and then it was like Barry's whole body was on fire. It was like the biggest shot of adrenaline, like he was suddenly way too aware of everything from the pain in his ribs to the smell of the front offices. He gasped at the same time Snart did, hand going up to his cheek which was still too hot and-</p><p>He turned, it felt like it took a lifetime, and Snart was on the floor staring up at him-</p><p>His whole hand had turned a red so dark it was almost black. A Lichtenberg figure, the analytical part of Barry’s brain supplied, Leonard’s Mark looked like a lightning burn.</p><p>(Russian and Chinese translations available)</p>
            </blockquote>





	So your Soulmate's a Jerk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedHead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHead/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Итак, твой соулмейт - негодяй](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7112842) by [TomDream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomDream/pseuds/TomDream)



> Edit: I AM NOT WRITING ANY MORE OF THIS PLEASE DO NOT ASK FOR A CONTINUATION/SEQUEL/EXTRA CHAPTERS. I have already said I am not writing more. On almost a third of the comments. That won't change. Please don't ask me again. Seriously it stresses me out. I've disabled anonymous commenting and turned on comment moderate for the first (and so far only) time because of how much it stresses me out and how often people have ignored this note. If I could turn comments off completely I would.
> 
>  
> 
> -This one I'm also blaming on RedHead because it came from something I saw on her blog here-  
> http://coldtomyflash.tumblr.com/post/137973073832/coldflash-only-soul-mate-au-where-you-you-find
> 
> I've never actually written a Soulmate AU before and I've kind of shameless stolen terminology from one of RedHead's fics (Here- http://archiveofourown.org/works/4172832/chapters/9420939)
> 
> Ummm yes, have a thing internet.
> 
> There's now an awesome Russian translation by TomDream  
> And a Chinese translation by balancathy

He’d thought about being Marked a lot over the years, about first contact and Initial Communion and a dark, abstract shape drawing itself over his skin.

 

Nothing appeared when he’d first held Iris’ hand and he’d been in love with her so long it didn’t feel like he could love anyone else. But he liked the _idea_ of it: a deeper personal connection, a bond no one and nothing could break. He liked the idea of being able to feel what someone he loved was going through. He liked the idea of carrying a little piece of them everywhere, written on his skin.

 

And sure science had done away with the old idea that there was only one other person out there for each of them, the other half of an unformed Bond but-

 

But your Bond was what you made it.

 

He’d always imagined his would be romantic.

 

Instead-

 

-

 

Diaz and Holloway had been guiding Leonard Snart away, past Joe towards the cells and Diaz had shoved him in the shoulder. And Snart fell-

 

A lot of people would have put their hands out but anyone who did that in cuffs usually broke their wrists. And…Snart had been arrested before, he raised his arms instead.

 

So when he collided with Barry his hand knocked Barry’s cheek and-

 

It was like an acid burn, for a moment everything felt normal and then it was like his whole body was on fire. It was like the biggest shot of adrenaline, like he was suddenly way too aware of everything from the pain in his ribs to the smell of the front offices. He gasped at the same time Snart did, hand going up to his cheek which was still too hot and-

 

And he knew what it was, this was Initial Communion and _fuck_ that wasn’t possible-

 

He turned, it felt like it took a lifetime, and Snart was on the floor staring up at him, eyes wide, an open, shocked expression that looked completely out of place on him-

 

His whole hand had turned a red so dark it was almost black. It was shot through with thin, branching lines, gaps the colour of Snart’s skin radiating out from the point where they’d touched.

 

A Lichtenberg figure, the analytical part of Barry’s brain supplied, Leonard’s Mark looked like a lightning burn.

 

And as soon as he thought that, _God he’d been Marked,_ he remembered _where they were_. He could hear whispering behind him, Diaz and Holloway had both moved forward to haul Snart to his feet and they’d both stalled at Barry’s side. Joe was frozen to his left and Eddie looked like he thought he was hallucinating and-

 

Snart was staring at him as if he wasn’t sure Barry was real. He was, _God what was that_? A feeling that made his throat tight, that made him want to clench his fists, that made him want to run. And he was in pain. His shoulder and his knee, from where he’d landed after the guns created that shockwave and-

 

Somewhere behind him Barry could hear Rory shouting. People had clustered around them in a large, loose circle. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Joe tensing, gaze flicking between Barry and-

 

Snart’s face set back into that familiar implacable mask.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

How was his voice so steady?

 

Barry took a stumbling step back and Joe moved to put a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Son, you don’t have to tell him anything.” Joe assured him quietly, calmly.

 

It was _such_ a mess. And Barry wasn’t sure if it was Initial Communion or not but it was just so much easier to focus on what Snart was feeling than it was to try and make sense of his own tangled emotions.

 

Snart felt focused. Everyone watching could probably see that in the way Snart was staring Barry straight in the eye, refusing to look anywhere else. They wouldn’t be able to feel the tension in his shoulders though, the awful hollow feeling in his chest and underneath it all something that was almost like nausea, like the bottom of his stomach had dropped out.

 

Fuck, Snart…Snart was _scared_.

 

“Come on, kid,” Snart drawled, _how_ did he sound so relaxed. “It’s the least you can do.”

 

And that was apparently the last straw because Joe stepped between them.

 

“He doesn’t _owe you a damn thing_ , Snart!” Joe snapped, planting himself in front of Barry like a shield.

 

“I disagree.” Snart replied and he sounded completely calm even though Barry could _feel_ just how pissed he was getting with Joe and-

 

And however much of a jerk Snart was it didn’t seem fair to watch him get packed off to Iron Heights without telling him.

 

“It’s OK, Joe,” Barry interrupted trying not to think too much about everyone else, if he could just stop this before it got really bad then-

 

God how was he going to tell Iris? Or _god Caitlin_ , Snart had _kidnapped_ her, held her hostage for almost 24 hours. Snart had tried to _kill_ him earlier.

 

Except…it hadn’t been him, it had been ‘the Flash’ and _god_ how was he going to hide that from his- his-

 

From Snart.

 

He didn’t want to have to think about any of this.

 

Joe turned, looked at him as though he was crazy but really what was Barry supposed to say? He stepped to the side met Snart’s eye and-

 

“Barry Allen.”

 

Some of the tension, the tightness in Snart’s chest loosened. It was weird just thinking about it, that it wasn’t really his to feel-

 

Holloway cleared his throat and Barry jumped.

 

“D’you mind if we take him down to the cells now, Allen?” Holloway murmured.

 

“I- _what_?”

 

“Bond Rights, kid.” Snart supplied helpfully and _god_ Barry hadn’t even thought of that.

 

You weren’t supposed to separate people who had just- people who were-

 

 _Fuck_ why was it so hard to _think_? It was just procedure, you needed consent to separate- when the Bond was still forming anyway. There were forms. And if they didn’t consent you took them both down to the cells and-

 

God why did it have to have happened _here_?

 

He looked down at Snart, who was still on the floor, staring at Barry.

 

“It’s your call.” Snart told him.

 

Barry swallowed and nodded and he should have looked at Holloway but he just couldn’t.

 

“I…Yeah.” He said finally. “It’s OK. You can- you can take him.”

 

He stepped back out of their way and watched Diaz and Holloway drag Snart back to his feet. The crowd had broken up a little to let them through. And Snart was…resigned? Like he’d expected this and Barry had no idea what to do with that information.

 

He’d met his _soulmate_ and in less than five minutes they were parting again and-

 

“Nice meeting you, Barry.” Snart called over his shoulder and then-

 

Then he was gone.

 

Snart was gone and Barry was alone and everyone was staring at him and he’d been _Marked_ and he didn’t even know what it looked like and he needed to fill out those consent forms and he had to tell Iris and his sides were still _killing_ him after the fight and why did it _have_ to be _Leonard fucking Snart_?

 

Joe was beside him; hand on his shoulder, guiding him to a chair.

 

Barry sat heavily.

 

He’d never wanted to speed out so much in his life. He looked down and found his hands were shaking; the right one was on the verge of vibrating. He took a few deep breaths in quick succession and got it to slow to something more natural.

 

“Hey, Barr,” Joe said softly, crouching in front of him so they were almost level. “It’s gonna be OK.”

 

“God, Joe, how am I gonna tell Iris?”

 

Joe took his hand and squeezed it gently. “I can talk to her if you want.”

 

“I- yeah that might be good…I just-” He trailed off, scrubbed his free hand through his hair. “Why’d it have to be _Snart?_ ”

 

“I don’t know, Barr,” Joe began and he looked like he had more to say but he stopped, focused on something off to the side.

 

“Eddie.” Joe said sharply, jerking his head.

 

“On it.” Eddie replied and Barry finally glanced up and-

 

There was Cisco. Because Cisco was coming to collect the guns.

 

Eddie grabbed the evidence box from a near by table and broke into a jog to cut Cisco off. Barry buried his face in his hands and groaned.

 

“It is _going_ to be OK.” Joe whispered to him, insistent.

 

“He’s _killed_ people and he’s-” He swallowed and didn’t finish the sentence.

 

Snart probably wouldn’t want a cop to know he was worried and afraid. God did that mean he was _protecting_ Snart? Or was that just considerate, not telling strangers about your- about your soulmate’s emotional state.

 

“He’s what, Barr?”

 

“Just…not doing great right now.”

 

He looked up just enough to see Joe’s concerned expression.

 

“I- what does it even look like?”

 

“Barbed wire.”

 

For some reason that made Barry laugh. God he sounded sorted of hysterical.

 

Then the Captain’s door banged open and he looked _furious_.

 

“Don’t you all have work to do?”

 

The room went suddenly quiet. Barry hadn’t even realised just how much whispering there had been-

 

“Allen!” Singh snapped. “A word.”

 

He got to his feet automatically. His perception shifted as he walked across the room, time slowing to a crawl. He managed to keep his head up and his speed normal. Singh closed the door behind him.

 

“Sit down.”

 

Barry did. Singh made his way to the other side of the desk and sat with a sigh. His expression was a lot softer than Barry was used to. It was a bit too easy to imagine that look as pitying so Barry ended up focusing on the desk and then Singh’s hands and then the small curling Mark on his index finger.

 

“How much of the evidence for this case have you worked on?”

 

“A lot of it I guess?” Barry replied with a shrug. “The garage, the air field when they stole the painting, Dr Snow’s car-”

 

He trailed off, realising where this was going.

 

“Is that- is it going to affect the trial? He’s not going to-”

 

“No, he won’t walk.” Singh stated, in a gentler tone than normal. “There’s a roomful of witnesses who can testify you weren’t Bonded while you were working on Snart’s case. Have you filed everything?”

 

“No.” Barry murmured, still not quite looking Singh in the eye.

 

“Is it labelled?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Alright.” Singh said with another sigh. “I’ll have someone move it out of your lab later today and give the case to Kim. You won’t have to testify.”

 

He hadn’t even thought about that. He’d never be able to work on one of Snart’s cases again and that was almost a relief. Snart was going to go to jail and…that was out of Barry’s hands. With any luck by the time he got out he’d…not be quite so eager to fight the Flash-

 

“I think you should take the rest of the day.” Singh told him.

 

“Yes Captain.” Barry replied softly.

 

“I’ve delayed his transfer to Iron Heights for 24 hours. You can go down and see him any time you want to.”

 

“I’m not sure I do.” Barry said. “Want to, I mean.”

 

Singh nodded. His gaze flicked briefly down to his hand, his Mark.

 

“It’s confusing for everyone at first.” Singh volunteered and all Barry could do was nod.

 

“Do you have someone who could pick you up?”

 

“I think Joe’s calling Iris.”

 

“Alright. Thank you Mr Allen.” Singh rose and Barry stared down at his own hands for a moment before working up the nerve to-

 

“The Kahndaq diamond case, I- when we were going through the records for suspects I remember Joe- Joe said-” Barry took a deep breath, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to know.

 

“He said what, Allen?”

 

“That…Snart was abused.”

 

Singh took a few steps back, leaned against the desk and stared at the wall.

 

“Have you worked on many of those kinds of cases Allen?” Singh asked finally.

 

“Umm a few I guess?”

 

Singh nodded.

 

“The Snart case was ordinary, as much as these things ever are.” He paused, looked at the floor. “Snart Senior drank and he beat his wife and kids. There were noise complaints, a few flags raised from schools and hospitals. The wife vanished. The kids got into trouble. No one wanted to testify and without that there wasn’t a case.”

 

“So…no one did anything?” Barry asked quietly.

 

He felt sick.

 

“There wasn’t anything we could do, Barry.” Singh replied.

 

He shouldn’t have asked. He didn’t need that on top of everything else. Didn’t need to picture Snart as one of the bruised, bloodied evidence photos that occasionally made their way into his case load, with their inconsistent x-rays and statements about how they’d been such _shy_ , _quiet_ children.

 

He didn’t need that on top of Snart’s real, present misery.

 

“Will that be all Mr Allen?”

 

“I- yeah. Thank you Captain.”

 

-

 

Len stared down at the Mark on his hand, turning it over (again) to map the lines on his palm (again). It wasn’t the best distraction from the panic on the other side of this…Bond. The kid felt like he’d drank a pint of expresso or something, completely on edge. And everything between his ribs and his hips burnt which made Len think the kid was injured or something and-

 

The cell door opened to a bunch of cops and Mick Rory. They shoved him inside and slammed the door.

 

“What the hell happened to you?”

 

Len raised his hand, showing Mick the Mark and watched his eyebrows shoot up.

 

“ _Nice_.” Mick declared in that gravelly tone that put almost everyone on edge.

 

He dropped onto the bunk beside Len with a smirk. “What’s he like?”

 

“A badge.”

 

Mick laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. And somewhere Barry Allen felt like he might be sick.

 

“Tell me about him.”

 

“There ain’t much to tell.” His soulmate was a cop who’d rather _Len_ was down in the cells and as far away from him as possible.

 

Mick grunted and leaned over to stare at the Mark.

 

Why’d it have to be on his hand? He _liked_ his hands. Now he was gonna spend the rest of his life looking at them and thinking about _Barry Allen_.

 

“Looks like a burn.” Mick observed.

 

“ _Thanks_.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

Len sighed. Mick gave him 17 seconds of blissful silence.

 

“So,” Mick rumbled. “What’s he like?”

 

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

 

Mick shrugged and Len glared at his Mark. He could’ve sworn the kid’s sides felt worse ten minutes ago-

 

“We can talk about how bad you fucked up instead.” Mick suggested. “How listening to your plans lost us the guns and the score-”

 

“His name’s Barry Allen. Twenties, white, brown hair, greenish eyes, 1.9 and about 170 pounds. One of his colleagues shoved me and now he’s got a dark brown mark on the right side of his face that goes from his cheekbone down to his neck-”

 

“What’s it look like?”

 

Len grimaced. “Frost.”

 

Least Mick seemed to find it funny.

 

“A goddamn _badge_ , only you Snart.”

 

“Yeah,” Len stated, cold and flat. “It’s hilarious.”

 

“He coming down to see you?”

 

“I doubt it.”

 

Mick frowned like he was only just getting it. Len sighed.

 

“He’s panicking. He’s upset and I think he’s gonna throw up sometime soon.”

 

“Made your usual first impression then?”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

-

 

The Mark wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. Barry had ducked into the bathroom to take a look at it and stayed there for far too long, avoiding…well everyone. He didn’t really want to have to deal with stares and whispers-

 

But…the Mark wasn’t _that_ bad. It was about the size of his hand and dark and it was in pretty much the worst place. But it didn’t really look like barbed wire; the lines were too straight and too jagged. It was more like ice crystals.

 

Eddie dragged him out when Iris arrived, which was when things started to improve.

 

Just seeing Iris, her smile, made Barry feel a lot better. It didn’t look the least bit forced, like Eddie’s had. All the awkwardness from the past few days was gone-

 

Iris smiled, threw her arms around his neck and said all the things people were _supposed_ to say when you found your soulmate. It helped a lot more than Barry thought it would.

 

So did getting out of the Precinct. He hadn’t realised just how much it had been getting to him.

 

“So what was it _like_?” Iris asked still beaming and Barry winced.

 

“It was…pretty bad?” He shrugged and stared at the pavement. “I guess the Flash had kicked him around more than we thought. And it was in front of _everyone_ , I mean we literally had a whole circle of people around us staring. And I just sort of feel like it hasn’t stopped? I mean it’s just-”

 

Barry gave up and just pointed at the damned thing. Iris smiled and put a commiserating hand on his shoulder.

 

“You know what you need?”

 

“What do I need?”

 

“Concealer. Let’s go see if they do a brand called ‘My Soulmate’s a Jerk’.”

 

He laughed. “They don’t actually- No come on that’s not a thing! It’s not!”

 

“When’s the last time you bought make up Barr?” Iris teased.

 

“It’s _really_ not a thing-”

 

“Looks like I get to teach you something Barry Allen.”

 

-

 

Iris led him through to the part of the drugstore he never went to. They stopped by an array of roughly fifty million different skin colours.

 

Barry let Iris take his hand and blot colour on the back on it.

 

“Hmmm, what do you think?”

 

“They all look the same.”

 

Iris swatted him. “They do _not_.”

 

It felt like they took about six days there looking at just about every concealer the store stocked. Which Iris had eventually narrowed down to three-

 

Barry tried to test some on the Mark and Iris had swatted him again.

 

“But if we don’t put any on the Mark how am I supposed to know if it’ll work?”

 

“It’s a tester Barry, trust me you don’t want to put it on your face.”

 

He ended up buying all three just to be on the safe side.

 

As they walked out of the drugstore Iris linked arms with him, she smiled wide and genuine. He started to feel a little…lighter.

 

“So, tell me about your soulmate.”

 

-

 

“What’re you gonna do if he doesn’t come down?” Mick asked because he just wouldn’t let it drop.

 

“Nothing.”

 

Mick snorted. “You got his name right? And he works here. Should be able to track down his number and his home address once we’re out-”

 

“ _Mick_.”

 

“Lisa’d be able to get hold of him without doing any damage.” Heatwave mused. “We’d have to case him out a little first, figure where he likes to drink-”

 

“ **Mick-** ”

 

“I got a van we could use and I know a place near the docks-”

 

“Stop helping me.”

 

It actually made him shut up for a moment. Long enough for Len to take a deep breath and calm down. At some point over the last few hours the kid had done the same, which was a relief. His sides didn’t hurt as much either, actually now that Len thought about it they didn’t hurt at all.

 

Len frowned. Had Barry doped himself up on something? The kid didn’t feel ill anymore. Len wondered if he’d even be able to tell-

 

“What’re you gonna do when the story gets out?” Mick asked.

 

And as much as Len didn’t want to think about Barry maybe getting high he wanted to think about Iron Heights even less.

 

Lisa was smart, she’d figure when the transport didn’t show that something was up. She’d use their equipment to find the new transport time and she’d break them out. But word would get out, Captain Cold was Bonded to a fucking cop and it’d give everyone in the city an excuse to take a shot at him. And if he ever did end up back in Iron Heights-

 

He wouldn’t last a week.

 

“You don’t have a plan.” Mick observed.

 

“I’m open to suggestions.” Len said and Mick shrugged.

 

“Tell ‘em you punched the Flash in the face.”

 

Len let out a short bark of a laugh because that was the most goddamn ridiculous-

 

Oh _hell no-_

 

Barry’s sides didn’t hurt at all anymore. There wasn’t any…dizziness or nausea coming through the Bond, nothing Len would’ve associated with drunkenness or drugs. Burns just didn’t vanish that fast-

 

Except the Flash had taken shots that would’ve cooked or frozen a normal man and got back up again in less than a second. The Flash could shrug off blasts of heat and cold-

 

Fuck it was ridiculous, except-

 

Except Len could remember pretty clearly where Barry had been hurting and it was right where they’d last shot the Flash.

 

“Shit.” Len muttered.

 

“What?” Mick asked and when Len didn’t answer he frowned. “Snart?”

 

“I think I did.”

 

-

 

The bar they found was empty, which wasn’t exactly surprising given it was the middle of the afternoon. Barry tried to order an orange juice and Iris teased him about not celebrating properly until he switched to something stronger.

 

He wanted to tell her it didn’t affect him anymore. But then he’d have to explain why and he really didn’t have the energy to deal with that _and_ Snart right now. So instead he downed his beer waaay too fast and watched Iris’ eyes widen.

 

“That bad huh?”

 

“He’s-” Barry began and stopped short. “I mean- It’s just-”

 

He gave up, groaned and thunked his head against the bar. Iris patted his shoulder.

 

“ _Everything_ coming through the Bond is bad. It has been since-since we touched.”

 

Iris started rubbing small circles into his shoulder; Barry took a deep breath and continued.

 

“He’s a _killer_. He _derailed a train_ the last time he was in Central. He _kidnapped_ Caitlin and he left a _bomb_ in the warehouse with her and I’m-” He sighed. “And I’m stuck with him I guess.”

 

When he looked up Iris was sipping her drink and frowning at him. Barry sighed.

 

“I know, that’s a horrible thing to say. It’s not how you’re supposed to feel but- he’s a _criminal,_ Iris.”

 

“What do you actually know about him, Barry?” She asked softly. “That isn’t from his record.”

 

That he was a smug, arrogant, grandstanding, son of a bitch who loved puns waaaaay too much for anyone’s good.

 

“Not a lot.” Barry admitted.

 

“And you didn’t talk to him after you Bonded did you?”

 

There wasn’t any judgement in her tone but when she put it like that and he thought about it-

 

Snart had expected to go back down to the cells alone, expected Barry to sign the forms and hand him over without a word. He’d been scared and all he’d asked for, all he’d wanted, was Barry’s name.

 

“No, I didn’t. It was just-”

 

She put a hand over his and smiled. “I know Barr.”

 

He took a deep breath and let it out in short bursts. In the cells below the Precinct Snart was worried and tense and more than a little frustrated and _so_ goddamn sad.

 

“Thanks, Iris.” He said finally. “For…everything.”

 

“It’s OK.” She replied. “But you know you _should_ talk to him right?”

 

“Yeah.” Barry answered. “I- Yeah you’re right. I think I’m gonna need something stronger first though.”

 

He _really_ wished that still worked.

 

-

 

They used one of the old interview rooms, the one that was supposed to get refurbished three years ago and still didn’t have any working recording equipment.

 

Barry drummed his fingers against the table. It was taking a conscious effort not to do it at the speed of sound. He couldn’t believe he was actually going to do this after Cold had strapped _Caitlin_ to a bomb.

 

The fact that Snart couldn’t seem to believe he was doing it either didn’t really help.

 

It was still so weird, having someone else’s feelings layered on top of his own and it was _Snart-_

 

And then the door opened and OK this _was_ really happening-

 

Barry forced his hands still and watched as Diaz guided Snart to his chair, cuffed his hands to the desk between them and-

 

He was pretty sure Diaz said something and Barry must have responded automatically because then he was alone with Snart.

 

For a while they just stared at each other. He didn’t know what to make of Snart’s expression or what he was picking up through the Bond, there was apprehension (which could have been either of them), suspicion (which was definitely Snart’s) and something almost curious.

 

Like he was a problem Snart wanted to solve.

 

“Didn’t think you’d come.” Snart said finally.

 

“I nearly didn’t.” Barry admitted and Snart nodded and-

 

He had no idea what to say.

 

“So, _Barry_ ,” Snart drawled. “How private is this little conversation?”

 

Well, Barry had known this was a bad idea-

 

“Why do you want to know?”

 

“Because I’d rather talk to my soulmate than a roomful of cops.”

 

And that…that was actually understandable.

 

“It’s…private, I think.”

 

“You think?”

 

Barry sighed. “There’s no one in the other room and the recording equipment’s broken. I mean I guess someone could be watching the camera’s security feed but-”

 

He trailed off and Snart frowned at him in a way that made Barry wonder what he was picking up through the Bond.

 

After a moment Snart nodded, apparently satisfied.

 

“Scarlet, we need to work something out fast.”

 

“I- _what_?” Barry stammered because did Snart just call him- how had he-

 

“Cut the crap.” Snart demanded his voice suddenly cold and hard. “You’re the Flash.”

 

Oh God _oh Godohgodohgod_ -

 

The cuffs banged against the desk as Snart- Snart was reaching for him, that feeling, in his chest, that was concern. God this was _weird_.

 

Barry took a deep breath and watched Snart shift awkwardly, pulling his hands back towards himself-

 

“I’m not gonna hurt you kid,” Snart told him softly. “That’d be counterproductive.”

 

He twisted his wrist to show off the Mark, smirked. Barry took another deep breath. He didn’t really want to look at Snart’s Mark but it was difficult not to stare. And may be he should have worried more about what Snart was getting through the Bond, how he’d found out but-

 

“What do you want, Snart?”

 

“Len.” Snart corrected, making Barry lose his thread.

 

“What?”

 

“You’re my soulmate.” Snart stated. “I figure you get to call me, Len.”

 

“Fine, _Len_ ,” Barry grated. “What do you want? Money? I’m _not_ going to break you out of here and I’m _not_ gonna help you steal-”

 

“You think I’m blackmailing you?”

 

“Aren’t you?”

 

The glare that got him was familiar, being able to feel the anger that went with it was new.

 

“No.” Snart, Len, (fuck this was a mess) said flatly.

 

Was he lying? Barry wasn’t sure if he’d be able to tell. What did lying feel like? Then again blackmail usually meant asking for something and Snart hadn’t so-

 

“You don’t believe me.”

 

Barry sighed and gave in to the urge to scrub his hands through his hair.

 

“You kidnapped one of my best friends so you could try and kill me, her _name_ is Caitlin by the way and she’s fine-”

 

“I didn’t-”

 

“You didn’t _what_?” Barry demanded and dammit this was such a mess. “Actually kill Caitlin? Or me? Or were you going to say that you didn’t _know_ I was your soulmate because _that_ makes it all OK?”

 

God this was a disaster, maybe he shouldn’t have come after all. Snart knew who he was, he hadn’t even been able to keep a secret from Cold for a day and _damn_ that was going to be a problem.

 

Snart didn’t say anything. Barry took a few deep breaths which didn’t help him feel any calmer-

 

And there was a bitter taste in the back of Snart’s throat that was really distracting.

 

“Look Scarlet,” Len said finally. “We might not have a lot of time here. D’you wanna spend it yelling or d’you wanna try and figure out a way we can both live like this?”

 

He could feel Snart’s jaw clenched too tight and they were both angry now. Barry was gripping the armrests so hard it hurt and Snart had _hurt Caitlin_ and dozens of other people and-

 

And he was actually right.

 

Barry tried to swallow the lump in his throat and met Snart’s calm, cool, stare.

 

“I guess you’re not gonna give up crime if I ask?”

 

Snart actually smiled and it was kind of sardonic but his amusement was genuine.

 

“You gonna turn in your badge?”

 

Barry shook his head. Snart gave him as much of a shrug as the cuffs allowed.

 

“Worth a shot.”

 

“God this is so screwed up.” Barry muttered.

 

“Agreed.”

 

It was so instant and so sincere it almost made Barry laugh.

 

“You’ll want me to stop killing people.” Snart continued after a moment. “Minimise injuries and collateral damage-”

 

“I want you to stop all of it.” Barry interrupted.

 

“Take what you can get, kid.”

 

Right, compromise, that was what they were doing. Barry sighed.

 

“Can you…not threaten my friends and family again?” He suggested, he shouldn’t have to ask but Snart, Len, was nodding.

 

“You’ll do the same for mine.”

 

Barry wasn’t sure if that was a question or an order but he said yes anyway.

 

That part was easy. The rest- Barry’s brain stuttered and stopped just trying to imagine what Snart might want.

 

“I’m not stealing for you.” Barry repeated.

 

“Not asking you to.” Len replied.

 

“And I’m not breaking you out of anywhere.” Barry insisted.

 

Snart didn’t answer and there was something coming through the Bond Barry couldn’t quite place-

 

“I’m _not_ -”

 

“Don’t need you to.” Len said and whatever that feeling had been to changed into apprehension, stress-

 

“You’ve already got an escape planned.” Barry guessed.

 

He didn’t even bother denying it.

 

“Before you do anything stupid Scarlet, like call your _colleagues_ , you might want to consider what’ll happen if I _do_ end up in Iron Heights.”

 

He leaned over the table, looked Barry right in the eye and Barry wanted to look away but something about the combination of Snart’s deep, visceral fear and his cool, controlled tone kept Barry pinned there.

 

“I’ve just been Marked by a _male cop_. My transfer was delayed which means the guards will know, which means by now the prisoners will. You got any idea what that means in a place with the State’s most violent offenders and a 12% rate of sexual abuse? It means a chance to take out all their frustrations on some cop somewhere.”

 

Snart paused and Barry really didn’t want to know what Len was picking up from him. Because god he could see where this was going and he didn’t want- He couldn’t be responsible for- It wasn’t-

 

“And if you’re thinking that I can take care of myself then I’m _flattered_ , kid, but it really don’t matter how big or tough you are when it’s seven against one-”

 

“They’ve got protective custody-” Barry murmured but he knew how much good that did and so did Snart.

 

“You want me to spend 23 hours a day inna box smaller than this for years? Rather take the beatings.”

 

Barry was starting to feel sick all over again. And god it all felt so wrong. After everything Snart had done he _should_ be in prison, he _deserved_ to be punished but no one deserved that. Was standing back and letting someone escape the same as helping them do it? How was he ever gonna be able to apologise to Caitlin for-

 

“You don’t believe me.” Snart stated, cold and flat and there was that resignation again like-

 

Like he expected Barry to…let him suffer. To be OK with that. Fuck.

 

“No!” Barry protested. “I- I believe you. Iron Heights is… look my Dad’s in there alright I know it’s bad and I don’t- I don’t want you to go through that. I don’t want _anyone_ to go through that.”

 

And there was that focused feeling again. Barry shifted uncomfortably under Snart’s stare.

 

“You’re Henry’s kid?”

 

“You know my- _How_ do you know my Dad?”

 

“Prison.” Len replied almost softly. “I owe him.”

 

“For what?” Barry demanded.

 

“About six stitches.”

 

He was going to have to ask his Dad about that the next time he got a chance to visit. He sighed. That was curiosity again coming through the Bond which meant-

 

“Go ahead. Ask.”

 

“He’s inside for killing your mother?”

 

“He didn’t do it.” Barry said for what felt like the billionth time. “It was-”

 

And usually he didn’t go this far anymore but Snart had seen his share of strange things too so may be-

 

“It was someone like me. A man, same powers, dressed in yellow. And he’s come back, he’s threatened my family-”

 

“That’s what the cold gun was for.” Len guessed and actually-

 

“More or less.”

 

Snart nodded. “You got any more of a description than ‘wearing yellow’?”

 

“I- maybe, why?”

 

Snart tilted his head to one side and Barry wondered if he was ever going to get used to that intense focus or if it was always going to make him want to fidget and look away. He wasn’t sure if he should, it seemed too much like backing down, like the kind of thing Snart might see as weakness.

 

Len had light grey eyes, kind of blue, Barry hadn’t noticed that before.

 

“Sounds like he’s got a grudge,” Snart observed. “And I might hear something you don’t.”

 

“You want to help?”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I-” Barry began but he couldn’t actually think of a good reason why not. “Why do you want to?”

 

Snart raised his eyebrows and glanced rather pointedly down at his Mark. Right. Yeah. That.

 

“Right. OK. But what- what do _you_ want?” Barry asked, almost desperate.

 

It sparked a mix of things in Len, something a little like surprise and a little like satisfaction.

 

“That’s what you’re worked up about?” He smirked. “I can pull off my own jobs kid. You stay out of my way, leave Lisa ‘n Mick alone, and I’ll return the favour-”

 

“Lisa?”

 

“My kid sister.”

 

Right, cos there were more of them. Snart worked with people, at least he had the last time until he’d got his hands on the cold gun. Without it he’d probably want a gang again. Great.

 

“So I ‘just’ have to look the other way while you and your little rogues’ gallery does whatever the hell you want?”

 

That amused Cold way more than it should have.

 

“What?” Barry snapped when he couldn’t stand that smirk anymore.

 

“Rogues,” Len drawled. “It’s cute.”

 

“You’ve got the _worst_ sense of humour-”

 

“And you’re apparently paranoid.” Snart countered. “Look at it this way kid, you leave us be and I can make sure more of us _rogues_ stick to your rules-”

 

“How are they _my_ rules when you’re the one who just came up with them?”

 

Snart shrugged. “Figured they covered most of it. Don’t kill anyone. Don’t mess with your clique. Minimise injuries. Don’t shoot first. I miss anything?”

 

“Don’t tell anyone who I am.” Barry added and Snart felt-

 

Oh no.

 

“You _already_ told someone?!”

 

“Just Mick.” Snart protested and that was just _great_.

 

“ _Just_ your crazy, bad-tempered, _pyromaniac_ accomplice?!”

 

“We were in the same cell when I figured it out-”

 

“Which makes it _all OK-_ ”

 

“I’m _sorry_.” Len snarled and-

 

And he actually meant it. Barry took a deep breath. Snart glanced down at his hands.

 

“Mick can keep his mouth shut.” He offered and when Barry didn’t respond he went on. “It’d be easier to keep anyone else in line if I could tell ‘em why-”

 

“I don’t care.” Barry snapped and he expected Cold to argue but-

 

He just nodded.

 

“If you’re serious about keeping this under wraps you’re gonna need to buy some make up to cover that thing.” Len pointed out after a moment. “’Less you’re happy with half the cops here wondering why the Flash suddenly has a Mark in the same place you do or why his mask hides more of his face just after you just got a Mark.”

 

“Yeah.” Barry sighed. “I know. Iris already took me shopping. I’ve got like three different kinds I don’t know how to use.”

 

“Iris?”

 

“My best friend.”

 

“Right.”

 

They lapsed into silence. Barry tried not to stare at Len’s Mark and didn’t exactly succeed. He wondered if anyone might guess just from that, a lightning pattern showing up the day Captain Cold fought the Flash.

 

“Are you…going to cover yours?” Barry asked.

 

“Want me to?”

 

“I don’t know. Do you want to?”

 

“Hadn’t thought about it.” Len admitted.

 

There was another pause and Barry noticed that Len was calmer. They were _both_ calmer. Maybe they’d be able to deal with…this after all.

 

“You wanna give me your number?” Len asked and Barry balked.

 

“My number? Why do you want- No OK I can see why but umm why don’t you give me yours and-”

 

“My cell’s in an evidence bag.” Snart pointed out, a little amused and OK it was kind of stupid.

 

He could probably lose his job for…well quite a bit of this whole conversation really. But if Snart got caught again with Barry’s number on his phone, proof Barry’d known where he was and not done anything about it then-

                

On the other hand if he _didn’t_ have a way to contact Len he might spend the next few months imagining every flash of anger, fear or pain through the Bond meant something much much worse than it did. So he gave Snart his number and then-

 

“We covered everything?” Len asked.

 

“I think so.” Barry replied.

 

They stared at each other for a moment. Barry fidgeted. Snart glanced towards the door then back at his hands.

 

Barry wondered whether he should get up and get someone but he didn’t think Len wanted to go back to the cells and they should probably talk or something but-

 

“Guess you can yell at me now.” Len said.

 

And it’s not that Barry didn’t want to exactly, he had a list of reasons so long he’d probably never get through it, but god everything about today had been exhausting. Anyway he couldn’t really yell at Snart for escaping until he’d actually done it.

 

“Why a parka?” Barry wondered and almost smiled at the surprise Len felt but didn’t show.

 

“The gun makes the air around it cold and it was the warmest thing I owned. Why d’you run around in red leather?”

 

“It’s not leather-” Barry protested.

 

“It looks like fetish gear.” Len told him and Barry groaned.

 

“Look it was _supposed_ to be protective gear for firemen.” Barry explained. “It’s designed to withstand heat so it doesn’t break or catch fire from the friction when I run-”

 

“That’s a problem?”

 

“Like you wouldn’t _believe_.”

 

He thought about all the shoes he’d worn through in the last few months and all the things he’d accidentally set on fire. He was really gonna have to move somewhere quieter before one of his neighbours noticed the worn out shoes, the way something blasted in and out every day and realised they were in the same building as the Flash.

 

“Why’s it red?” Len asked and Barry rolled his eyes.

 

“Because _Cisco_ \- You’ve met him? At the train? He uh _sortofstuckblueledstoavacumcleanerandpretendeditwasaprototypecoldgun_.”

 

From the look Len was giving him Barry couldn’t be sure whether Cold hadn’t understood a word or was just realising that everyone in Barry’s life was insane.

 

“I- Ummm-” Barry stammered and suddenly he had no idea what to say.

 

He wanted to ask about the Kahndaq diamond but he didn’t really want to know more about Cold’s crimes. He wanted to ask about Lisa but he didn’t want to talk about Len’s childhood. He wanted to ask why someone so smart never finished high school but he knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

 

“Can I see your Mark?” He asked finally.

 

Len tilted his head to one side and shrugged.

 

“Knock yourself out.”

 

He sat back in his chair, stretched his arms out as far as the cuffs would allow. It put quite a bit of distance between them and Barry wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. He leaned across the table and took Snart’s hand before he thought better of it.

 

It felt almost like static, like a tingling, alongside the ordinary feeling of someone else’s skin. It felt weird. It felt good.

 

Barry tried to ignore it. Which actually wasn’t that difficult because it also made the feelings coming through the Bond stronger and Len was still stressed and worrying about something and the cuffs were starting to dig into his wrists.

 

The lines, gaps really since they were the colour of ordinary skin, branched out from just above Len’s wrist. He traced two of the thicker ones up Len’s index finger and thumb as he tried to take in all the smaller more delicate ones. Len shifted when Barry started turning his hand over, making it easier Barry guessed. There was something in the Bond…self-consciousness maybe, and something warmer now the anxiety was fading. Barry tried not to think about it.

 

The lightning followed a different pattern over Len’s palm, it wrapped half way round his ring finger and then bent to shoot all the way up the middle one. It split near the centre of his palm, branching in almost opposite directions with another thicker line going down to his wrist and vanishing under his sleeve.

 

There were calluses on some of Len’s fingertips, his palm felt almost leathery.

 

Barry didn’t let go.

 

“Uh- how far up does it go?”

 

“Almost to my elbow.” Len told him.

 

“Jesus.”

 

He turned Len’s hand over again, tracing the line along his thumb. He felt Len shift but ignored it for a while staring at the dark dark red of the Mark. When he looked up Len had leaned forward over the table again, so goddamn close it was a little uncomfortable. He should have let go of Len’s hand and leaned back but-

 

Len’s eyes flicked down to his lips and Barry swallowed.

 

“Are you straight?”

 

“I- _what_?” Barry stammered and god Len thought something about that was funny and he should really let go of Captain Cold’s hand.

 

“Straight.” Len drawled. “Exclusively attracted to the opposite sex-”

 

“ _I know what it means!”_

 

“Well, Scarlet?”

 

“I-um- Are you?”

 

Len smiled. “No.”

 

“I-errr-”

 

And he might have actually died of embarrassment then and there but that must have been their time because Diaz came in to take Len back to the cells and-

 

“Guess I’ll see you around.”

 

Barry wasn’t sure what was worse the fact that the whole Precinct would think he’d kissed Leonard Snart or that given ten more minutes…he might have.

 

-

 

A few nights later Barry was on top of a dam, staggering back to his feet after the Pied Piper’s weapons blew-

 

Hartley was on the ground, unconscious or getting there-

 

“Barry, can you hear me?” Dr Wells’ voice was insistent in his ear.

 

“Sort of.” Barry slurred.

 

He took a couple of steps forward and sat on the hood of one of the abandoned cars. Somewhere he could keep an eye on Hartley while…whatever the gloves had done to him healed.

 

“Your vitals are returning to normal, Barry.” Caitlin told him in her gentle bedside tone.

 

“Thanks.” He murmured, smiling.

 

“Oh and dude,” Cisco cut in. “You’ve got about a dozen missed calls and a million texts from your supervillain. Uh he wants to know what the hell you’ve done this time? I just told him you saved Central City from the Pied Piper-”

 

“OK, fine-” Barry said, trying to figure out if there was a way he could breath that wouldn’t hurt.

 

“Ummm he’s just asked if you did it by running headlong into danger without a plan again and err survived by dumb luck again. I’m gonna tell him to mind his own business-”

 

“Cisco it’s-”

 

“Now he’s asking if you’re suicidal or just stupid. Can I tell him you’re trading him in for someone less evil?”

 

Barry laughed and his ribs must have been knitting back together because it wasn’t agonising. Somewhere Len’s worry was rapidly changing into annoyance and god that almost made it funnier.

 

“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that.” He took a deep breath and stood.

 

It still hurt a little, walking the few paces over to the Pied Piper and worry shot through the Bond again as he did.

 

“OK,” Barry told them. “I’m good. I’m gonna bring Pied Piper in now.”

 

“Excellent work, Mr Allen.” Wells declared. “Cisco, please put down the phone and stop antagonising Mr Snart.”

 

-

 

When he got back to the Cortex Barry had an itemised list from Len of suggested additions to their deal. The first was that Barry Allen shouldn’t be allowed to make plans. The third was that Cisco Ramon shouldn’t be left alone with Barry’s phone.

 

-

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [So your Soulmate's a Jerk|中文翻译](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10733385) by [balancathy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/balancathy/pseuds/balancathy)




End file.
